His Father
by Phoenix Fairy
Summary: Ginny is trying to find the reason her and Draco's relationship did not work out. The answer is darker than she wants to admit. Complete.


**His Father**

_Author's Note: I believe this story needs a bit of an explanation but i don't want to ruin it by giving it away here so it's at the bottom!_

_Disclaimer: This is the property of J. K. Rowling. I do not own it and ifI offend anyone with this story I'm sorry. Please feel free to share your opinions tastefully._

He could never say 'I love you.'

Maybe it was because of his father. He was so cold and distant when Draco was growing up. He expressed care in form of gifts and expected his care returned with respect, which Draco gave him. Always. Blaming his father is just so…clichéd.

Perhaps it was his mother. She didn't exactly express herself with words or outward displays of affection. She bought him things too. Expensive, lavish, magical things of course; but they were just that…_things_. She probably never showed him _how_ to say it. Maybe _she_ didn't know how. Maybe she'd just forgotten after years of being married to that cold and distant bas- er…father of his. However, _that_ is once _again_ blaming his father which, in turn, is, once again, clichéd.

So maybe it was his friends. He didn't have many friends as he was growing up. Not even at the end of his years at Hogwarts. They weren't the type to approve of such silly notions as love. And even if they did, they certainly wouldn't relate said silly notion to anything that resembled Gryffindor - or, for that matter, Weasley. He wasn't a follower though. So blaming his friends is just childish. Besides, he was only friends with them because those were the people his father approved of. Blaming his father is stupid. He's nothing like his father. He doesn't even _like_ his father.

It was probably his whor- ibble ex-girlfriend. The two-timing, phoney, pug-faced wretch Parkinson could be to blame. If he loved her, and told her so, and then discovered how she'd betrayed him he would definitely have trouble saying it _now_. Who wouldn't find it difficult to say after finding the pug, that is to say girl, they loved stark naked on their bedroom floor with that slimy Slytherin git, Zabini? That's only logical however, if one assumes that Draco loved her but he didn't love her. She was shrill, shallow, and stupid. He was probably relieved to be given a reason to leave her. He probably only dated her to please his father. He wanted so much for that…_wizard's_ approval. For Merlin's sake that wizard was a complete and utter sod. Not fit to _breathe_ the same air as Draco. Not fit to breathe the same air as any decent man. The name Lucius Malfoy will never leave these lips with anything less than complete hatred and scorn. His father will burn in hell for eternity. But even so, I'm certain there's a better reason. Who would give Lucius Sodding Malfoy that much credit?

Maybe it was just him. Maybe he didn't know how to love; what love was; how it felt; tasted; smelled; what it did to a person; how it left their hearts pumping in desire; how it flipped their stomachs and let loose a thousand butterflies; how it melted everything inside like wet cotton candy; how it felt bitter and sweet like the darkest smoothest chocolate; how it was pain and pleasure; how the wanting hurt like a rusted knife in the stomach; how…I love Him so much it's death by a thousand paper cuts. I can't remember who said that…I heard it somewhere. I don't remember when. I miss Him. He didn't leave me. I left him. I miss Him. If only he could've said he loved me. But he couldn't. I blame his father. I blame his father because if it weren't for him there wouldn't have _been _a Him for me to love. For me to want with everything inside me, there would be no Him. Blaming his father is stupid. I know. It was Fate. Fate made me love Him and leave him and left me with this pain. With my misery so raw it is almost non-existent and yet it's all I can feel, see, and think. It is all that I am. For that, I want to blame his father.

But maybe, just maybe, it's me. Maybe he just couldn't bring his perfection to love someone as plain as me. I'm not the smartest student. I'm not the most talented potion brewer, especially when you compare me to him. Not the fastest witch on a broom. I'm certainly not the prettiest girl because he'd told me as much when we first met. Yet _he_ chose _me_. I'm still not sure why but the fact remains that he did choose me. In the beginning, I used to think it was some elaborate prank he was playing. That he'd wait until he knew I'd do anything for him and then just laugh in my face and leave, but it never happened. He cared for me. Although he never once said he did. Perhaps, things might have been different if he'd said it…just once. It was in the way he looked at me and held me. A blind man could see he cared but I needed to hear it. This heart is a fool: untrusting and afraid. It fears betrayal. It fears Riddle. How could he, in all his perfection, love a person such as me? I am flawed: insecure, untrusting, unconfident. I am soiled: emotionally raped. I am tainted: by the darkest wizard's darkest magic. He, who is so used to the best, could never truly desire my second-hand heart. For the line is thin indeed and I loved Riddle. In my twisted innocent mind I loved Him. I loved Him like you would love a God. I desired Him and would have worshipped Him for all my days. I lust for Him now. I desire Him. As I think of Him now I want for Him to be near me. I want His touch, His caress, and His calloused hands to show me love. I think of Him now and can't remember ever wanting anyone so much. Not even you. I am sickened. I am left in darkness. These are my darkest desires. You were the light in my darkness. It was because you were light, Draco, that I could not stay.

I blame his father. I blame his father for tainting me with this dark desire. I blame his father for the sick pleasures Riddle plays in my mind.

Maybe it wasn't that you couldn't say it, at all. Perhaps, it was that you knew I couldn't hear it Draco. Perhaps, you knew that I could never say it to you and mean it with all of me. Perhaps, you knew that it was His name I wished I was screaming instead of yours. Perhaps, you knew that I get through the days because I know He'll come back to haunt me in my dreams; love me in my nightmares.

I thank his father, my lord.

I thank his father, my love.

I thank his father, my Tom.

I thank his father.

The End.

_Author's Note 2:Here's a brief explanation because even I find it confusing and I wrote it. This storyisfrom Ginny's POV. Sheisgoingover the different things that may have caused herrelationship with Draco to fallapart.She blamesLucius for giving herRiddle's diary and ruining her life but she knows there's more to it than that. She looks deeper until she realizes, at the end, that it was because ofher that it did not work out with Draco. She isinfatuated by thememory of Riddle. She believesthat her infatuation islove and therefore thanks Lucius because he is the reason she found her one true love. I was basically trying to make it about denial andaboutthe shadow.Well...I'm willing to rewrite this to make it better. If you have any suggestions as to how I couldimprove this storyplease let me know. Thank you._


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